


Mama Said It Was Alright

by IdleYouthDramaQueen



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gwen Stacy is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Harley Keener & Morgan Stark are Siblings (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Irondad, Irondad & Spiderson, Parent Pepper Potts, Pepper Potts Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Pepper Potts is called mom, Peppermom, Peter Parker & Harley Keener & Gwen Stacy & Morgan Stark are Siblings, Peter Parker & Harley Keener & Gwen Stacy are Triplets, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark are Siblings (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker Calls Tony Stark "Dad", Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Tony Stark is dad, Unknown kids, spiderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-20 08:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30002118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdleYouthDramaQueen/pseuds/IdleYouthDramaQueen
Summary: Peter, Harley, and Guinevere, Fitzpatrick, were born to the young Mary Fitzpatrick, on August 1st, 2006. After a freak accident involving Mary in a plane crash, the children were passed around in the New York Foster Care System, with no living relatives. Now fourteen, and living in hell on Earth (a Queen’s group home), the triplets are heavily questioning their origins. No living relatives, no relatives that resemble them, and no idea on how to find their missing Californian Father. At least they’re good at science….no they’re great at science, too great.On the other side of New York City, lives Iron Man himself. Living the high life in Manhattan, Tony Stark spends part time as Iron Man, R&D head, and is married to the best woman alive: Pepper Potts, well now Pepper Stark, while raising his beloved daughter, Morgan.After multiple run-ins with identical ‘Fitzpatricks,’ something is up, three short little physicists, running around Queens?Oh, and did I mention Peter and Guinevere Fitzpatrick were also Spiderkids?
Relationships: Gwen Stacy & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Gwen Stacy & Tony Stark, Harley Keener & Gwen Stacy, Harley Keener & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Harley Keener & Peter Parker & Morgan Stark & Gwen Stacy, Harley Keener & Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Pepper Potts & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Gwen Stacy, Peter Parker & Harley Keener, Peter Parker & Harley Keener & Gwen Stacy, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Peter Parker
Comments: 10
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first work! Hope you like it!

Peter Fitzpatrick wasn’t a ‘try hard.’ If a classmate ever glanced his way, raising a brow at his knowledge, he would stumble. Running his fingers through his chestnut hair, with a nervous demeanor, he’d chuckle, quickly quipping, “Of course not! I just like learning! It’s like being good at soccer. Except I’m not good at soccer…! I like legos, mostly; sorry for talking too much.”  
Fourteen year old Peter Fitzpatrick attended Midtown School of Science and Technology, on a full ride scholarship, which is funny because Midtown doesn’t offer scholarships. But he applied anyway, knowing the tuition was too expensive for him to ever afford, sending a carefully worded email about the perils of privilege and the unfair price of admission.  
When Principal Morita called for an interview, pulling anxiously at his thrifted tie he had bought at the Goodwill Clearance Sale, Principal Mortia asked Peter what his favorite branch of science happened to be. Being the dorky teen he was, he explained that since Star Wars isn’t a science, ‘Chemical Equilibrium is a pretty lit topic, because can happen whether the reaction begins with all reactants and no products, all products and no reactants, or some of both.” Awe befell Principal Mortia, due to the Freshman’s sharp wit, and Peter grinned cheekily. They both knew he had gotten the non-existent scholarship. “I can pull some strings with a local charity.”  
Peter, once attending Midtown, was bullied for being Puny Peter by Flash Thompson. Holding an overall nerdy appearance, from his thin and short stature, to the way he held a know-it-all attitude- in an accidental way. It wasn’t his fault he knew the answer, he just did. He’d fumble his hands around his backpack, as the English Teacher, Mrs. James recited the prologue to Romeo and Juliet, attempting to grasp his cellphone; to text Ned, his best friend. The fair theatre girl, Betty, shrilled, “Civil blood makes civil hands unclean!”  
‘Wanna hang after school?’  
‘Sure. Can we go to ur place lol? I’ve never been… we always go 2 mine.’  
‘Nah fam… sorry. Parents work all the time, and I can’t have anyone over alone.’  
‘Man, being an only child must suck.’  
‘It’s aight.’  
Peter Fitzpatrick, just wasn’t an only child, however. But what Ned Leeds didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt him. Ned also didn’t know that Peter was a ward of the state. New York City’s Department of Social Services.  
Harley, Guinevere, and Peter Fitzpatrick, were born on August 1st, 2006, to Mary Fitzpatrick, a nurse from Los Angeles. Mary Fitzpatrick, a young irish woman, in her early twenties, with ginger hair, green eyes, and a small frame, had her triplets alone, in an empty hospital room. A single woman, with three babies, but no father listed on the birth certificate. The one to visit her in recovery was her childhood friend, Christine Everhart, who brought her an ‘It’s a Boy and Girl’ balloon. Mary snorted, “Chris, can I have a cup of coffee? God, I haven’t had caffeine in like eight months!”  
The three babies never really knew their mother. Leaving the triplets with her parents, May and Ben, who had lived in Brooklyn, unable to travel west for the birth, at 6 months, Mary headed to Africa, for a medical training expedition. She had desired to eventually become a doctor in the ICU of Los Angeles Children’s Hospital. An immense dream, and according to her Father, Grandpa Ben to her children, ‘That would provide her with great power, and with great power there must also come great responsibility.’  
Her parents loved to fuel Mary’s pipe dream of a doctoral degree. Yet with three kids, the schooling got increasingly difficult, May and Ben offered to watch over them temporarily, so Mary wove goodbye, boarded Flight 316, and departed to Ghana to broaden her horizons amongst the glimmering sky, gain her personalized power, and create a better life for Harley, Peter, and Guinevere.  
Tragedy struck right before Harley, Peter, and Guinevere’s first birthday. Mary was due to be home July 25th, her plane to land at 6:00 pm. Grandma May planned to pick up her young daughter, and all would be well, calm almost. Mary would be reunited with her chubby ‘little angels,’ as she liked to call them. Only the flight never landed.  
A Freak Accident! The New York Times called it. Mary’s plane had shot out a propeller mid flight, a vapid technical accident. The plane pummeled amongst the flowering fields of Oklahoma. The funeral ensued on a bright Tuesday in August.  
From there, misfortune only persisted. May and Ben neared their seventies, Ben diagnosed with fatal heart condition, flickering out quickly, as if he was a glimmering light switch; passing before the triplets turned four. May mourned, only to ache for Ben so much so, she died the following year.  
Peter savored the fading memories with his grandparents. The little things, like the smell of cinnamon candles, Grandma May's itchy sweaters, Grandpa Ben’s stories about being a Police Officer, and the Stark Expo, that Ben and May had taken the triplets to, where Iron Man rescued Peter, and had become his savior ever since.  
Harley, Peter, and Guinevere Fitzpatrick entered the foster care system at five. At first, they remained thankfully, in a long term foster home. Poppy Keener, a sweet, blonde southern woman, loved to laugh at the toddlers' antics, obsessing over the way the three would play ‘Avengers Battle.’ Harley would be Professor Banner and the Hulk, stomping and roaring, his face twisted into slight knots. Guinevere would play the bad guy, and sometimes Black Widow, because she was a ‘cool girl and liked to kick!’ And Peter was always Iron Man. The game would end when Guinevere doubled over in childish fits of giggles, and Harley would cry for Juice Pops.  
The hearty woman sang them lullabies, as they cuddled up on the woolen couch, in her small apartment, as the Chitarui attacked New York. Pushing Guinevere’s sweat ridden hair back, she murmured, “It’s alright sugar, we’ll be ok. Close your eyes.”  
“Yeah Gwenie! Iron Man will save us!” Peter exclaimed.  
But, by age ten, Poppy hadn’t adopted, nor could no longer serve to support all three, due to her layoff. Giving each child a kiss to the forehead, she swore they were very much loved. With that Harley, Peter, and Guinevere were transferred to a Queen’s group home, run by the all mighty dictator Richard Parker, for Social Services couldn’t find anyone else willing to keep the triplets together. And that’s how it’s been ever since.  
The group home wasn’t great. It was grimy, with little food, little friends, and little funds. Richard had heavy punishments for those who broke silly rules, such as no homework past five. Guinevere once didn’t eat for three days. The triplets attempted to block out the bad: staying away from ‘home’ as much as possible. The library was their sanctuary, as well as the arcade, the park, and Delmar’s Sandwich & Grill shop. At least they had one another, and all the neighbors that knew the three.  
Now at fourteen, Peter attends Midtown, Harley attends Visions Academy, a magnet that actually offers scholarships, and Guinevere received a scholarship to Standard School For Technology. Which prompted the unsurprising realization, that they are too smart for their own good. Things just come too easy, especially science, but from what they know their mother wasn’t abnormally smart. With the ill-fated cards they’d been dealt, Harley, Peter, and Guinevere are still confronted with the daily musing of, “Have you checked your IQ?”  
With age comes growth, and Harley now stands the tallest, with chestnut brown hair, then Peter, matching Harley in hair color, and Guinevere, now preferring to be called by her nickname, Gwen, with strawberry blonde hair.  
As if the ostentatious mystery behind their exceeding intelligence wasn’t enough, the matching glassy brown eyes all three possessed served as a reminder of their lost origins. All the family they had ever seen, known, held emerald green eyes, shimmering like a lush forest.  
Gwen remarked the eye color arises from their father- their unknown father, which is where, besides Gwen’s red-tinted hair, their genetics come from. The triplets are dying to know the Californian, not only just to get out of the less-than-homely group home, but to see someone breathing, living, who is family.  
All they know about the mysterious man, Daddy Dearest, Harley nicknamed him on a rainy Thursday, is that Christine Everhart told Mary to loosen up, as she put herself through medical school, and Mary met their father at a party for reporters in Malibu. He apparently never even knew.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol next chapter :)

Peter, Harley, and Gwen rested on the rusty fire escape of their group home, eating Delmar’s Sandwiches: The Best Sandwich in Queens. Mr. Delmar provides them with free sandwiches on Friday nights, as he knows the group home doesn’t feed them enough, and the triplets are holding on hard to crumpled dollar bills and pennies roughly shoved into their small pockets, enough to pay for at least one college tuition.   
The golden sun set over Queens, providing glimmering rays, shining over the group. Gwen slumped over the railing, counting the taxi’s below. “I don’t want it to get cold yet. I’m not ready for winter.”   
Peter glanced at his sister. “Neither am I! I outgrew my coat. Which reminds me, we need to sell clothes next week, cause I think we all grew. Plus, we need movie tickets for the new Star Wars movie.”   
“I’d rather buy new shoes.” Gwen murmured. “Mine are falling apart. And I need new pointe shoes, and about a million other things.”   
“Ok, after we get all that, we can go see Star Wars. If we have enough.” Peter bent to his side, continuing to chew. “Thank God for Senor Delmar! Muy bien!”   
“Yea, it just depends on how many pennies we can shake down from Richard this month.”   
“I’m betting five dollars!” Peter chuckled, Gwen shoving into his side.   
“Shut up-!” She smiled.  
Harley interrupted, “Hey Pete?” He shot up from his resting space.   
Peter looked at Harley, gulping down his food, “Yea?”   
“Who do you think the hottest car in Cars 2 is?” Harley chortled, taking a bite of his italian sandwich, which Gwen remarked as disgraceful, as Ruben is the superior, and more refined, sandwich.   
Peter instantaneously sat up, to match his brother, a confident look on his face, “Hmm….Mater. He’s the hottest. Definitely.”   
“Oh my God!” Gwen snorted at her brothers. “Can you think before you speak? Harls, what is this conversation?”   
“You’re right, I should think before I speak, Gwenie!” Harley gave her a sinister look. “Lighting Mcqueen is totally the hottest. Like he’s bae, and God.”  
“Yeet!”   
“I don’t know guys, this is a pretty ignorant conversation.” Gwen frowned at Harley. “Petey can I have some of your gummies?” She exclaimed, reaching for the takeout bag.   
Peter quickly grabbed the bag for himself, “Only if you tell me why this conversation is stupid!”   
“You guys are ignoring the true hottest in the situation! The british spy car! With the mustache.”   
“No Gwen, just no! Ew!” Harley’s face twisted. “That is just- no! Why?” He stood up, cleaning up his meal’s trash.   
Gwen pouted, stealing some gummy worms anyway. “Why?”   
Peter, now also standing, shouted, along with Harley. “He looks like Hitler!”   
“No he doesn’t!” 

The following Monday, all three of them separately headed to school. Gwen sat on the apartment’s steps, hurriedly patching a hole in her pink jansport. “Jesus, I need a new backpack.” She griped, pricking her finger with the needle. Peter and Harley raced one another down the small staircase. “Hey Petey?” Gwen piped, and locked eyes with her brother. “Are we going spidering tonight?”  
“Yea, if you're down.” Peter hooted in return. Then turning back to Harley, he exclaimed, “I’m pretty sure Empire Strikes Back is the best of all time! It’s iconic!”   
“Petey, buddy, without a New Hope, Empire Strikes back would be confusing trash! It’s what lays down the fundamentals for the franchise.”   
“Whatever!” Peter scoffs, Gwen rolls her eyes.   
“You guys can’t go out tonight!” Harley spouted, taking a seat next to Gwen.   
Gwen exhorted, placing her backpack on. “And why is that, Harls?”   
“Today is haircutting day.”   
She pursed her lips. “I can cut your hair on Friday. Pete, can you do my bangs on Friday?”   
“Sure.” Peter glanced at his wristwatch, facing Harley and Gwen. He groaned. “It’s already six thirty, we need to catch the subway.”   
Peter and Gwen Fitzgerald, were not only orphans, but Spiderkids. As Spiderman, and Spidergirl, the pair held the secret identity under close wraps. Sneaking out at night, as adorned vigilantes, stopping Queen’s crime- dropping the rate of crime in the city by ten percent. They hadn’t always been Spiderkids, after getting bitten by radioactive spiders, on a joint field trip between their schools, Midtown and Standard, (Harley was extremely jealous), they understood that they had gained a spider like enhancement to their warble physiques. However, the decision to become crime fighters amongst the starry backdrop of the city, didn’t happen until one fateful night at the 24-Hour Mini Mart, last spring.   
It was nine o’clock, and Gwen had only found out about her bad grade on her Spanish test…. It was eighty percent. Harley and Peter offered to use their only allowance to go out for some blue-raspberry slushies, as a way of consoling their perfectionist sister. “I just need to get everything right, and then I’ll be happy.” She wept to Harley, Peter rubbing her shoulder.   
“If it makes you feel better, I suck at English.” Peter chuckled, wiping his sister’s tears. “I mean we are science nerds. I don’t think language is our thing.”   
“Yeah, Gwenie.” Harley said. “I mean you are boss at physics and computer science, I’m boss at engineering, and Peter’s boss at Chem. So what if you can’t get 100 in Spanish.”   
The three waited in line to pay for their slushies, when a robbery occurred. The robber, adorning a black ski mask, quickly ripped forward the customer in front of them. He instructed the cashier to place his stolen funds into a to-go bag, while he pressed a pistol to the customer, an elderly woman's head. She began to manically scream, out of fear or desperation, Harley was not sure. Then the gun fired off… Boom! And she fell to the floor. Peter began to weep. Gwen shrieked “Call 911! Hurry!” Harley checked for a pulse. There was not. When the tile was painted with a flurry of blue slushie and blood, that’s when Peter and Gwen knew. They had to help, they were granted powers for a purpose.   
Peter and Gwen swung through the towering buildings of Queens. Landing in alleys, webbing muggers, directing lost children to their parents, helping cats, and lipping off: the normal routine. All in bed before eleven. Peter and Gwen chatted over their suit intercoms, “What’s Harley up to, Gwenie?”   
“I don’t know.” She quipped, flipping off a brick wall. “Hey Karen? What’s Harley up to?”   
Karen is the Artificial Intelligence Gwen created when they first began to fight crime. Consulting Harley, the two decided if they were to be superheroes, they were to do ‘it’ in the right fashion, with the right fashion. Harley worked as their “Guy in the Chair,” intercepting their routine with occurring crimes, police pursuits, and other pieces of knowledge. Plus he made their suits, engineering the web shooters, and mechanical functions, while Gwen made Karen and the computing function, and Peter made all the webs. Coming up with multiple formulas to devise the ultimate web, for both strength and dissolvant. He also produced acid webs, web bombs, attempting to keep cylinders from dissolving in chemistry class was certainly a feat; hurriedly slamming the laboratory cart shut every time a peer approached him. Mixing up a lovely concoction of polymer and nylon, all to be like a spider.   
“Harley is currently sitting at his desk, Gwen.” Karen said, contacting Harley via the watches he had created for the three of them. Peter salvaged the parts from old thrift store watches, and cellphone chips.   
“Any crimes?” Peter inquired.   
“Connecting you to Harley…”   
“Hey Pete!” Harley laughed. “No crimes that I know of! But it’s almost 10:30, and Richie does bed checks at 11. You might want to get home!”   
“Ok!” Gwen chimed in, handing a small girl to her mother. “We’ll be there.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeet

Tony Stark peered out the window of his penthouse, in STARK Tower, located in Manhattan, New York. Taking a sip of his espresso, his wife pressed a hand to his shoulder. “Morning Pep!” Tony chimed.  
“Morning Tony.” Pepper Stark smiled, placing some tea leaves into her mug, then shifting to read the SI paperwork on their kitchen island. “Ross is really trying to push the Rouges back onto you, huh.”  
Tony sighed, caressing his forehead. “God. Not just me...us. If it was six years ago- lordy, has it been that long? Shit, maybe I would have taken them back. But not now, not with us. I don’t want anymore conflict, especially with Mr. War Criminal America-!”  
“Daddy!” A small, brown-haired, girl raced into the room. Her glimmering eyes locking with Tony’s. “Good Morning! Can we go to the park? Can Rachel and Uncle Rhodey come? Can we make Juice Pops for breakfast? Mommy! Please!” She begged Tony and Pepper.  
Tony snorted at his child. “Good Morning to you too, Morguna.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “But I’m sorry baby, we can’t have Juice Pops for breakfast, or else you’ll act like a wild alien all day! Plus, Mommy is making eggs!”  
“Daddy!” Morgan Stark pouted, climbing up to the kitchen counter. “Juice Pops are my favorite! Can we bring Juice Pops if we go to the park?”  
Tony suggestively glanced at his wife. “That’s up to your Mommy, Morguna! Daddy has to work all day.” Pepper raised an eyebrow in return. “What? I do!” He laughed. “Today is that school expo thing I have to do. Where all the grimy little high school kids try to pitch me their volcano projects, or whatever.”  
“I’m sure New York’s greatest STEM schools will pitch you more than baking soda volcanoes, Tony. Some might make great interns in college.”  
“I’d make the best intern ever! I can read, and do fractions!” Morgan shouted. Pepper laughed, while Tony passed Morgan a cup of orange juice. “Daddy! I don’t like being handed things!”  
“Dear God! I have two Tony's!”  
Tony Stark, briefcase in hand, exited the STARK Tower, formerly Avengers Tower for a short while, and headed to his Audi. “Hey Hap!” Tony cheered. “How was the Downton Abbey finale last night?”  
His large driver grunted, “God, Boss,” Happy said, “It honestly sucked.” They pulled away from the homely streets of Manhattan and headed towards Brooklyn.  
Happy launched the pair into a recap of all six seasons of his favorite 1920s British Show, as they were stuck in traffic, Tony at one point chuckling, “Are you sure, Hap? I can call PBS! I can do it right now! I can buy the rights! I can make you a spinoff- Upton Abbey, directed by Happy Hogan, produced by Tony Stark!”  
Happy shook his head. “No, No, It’s alright, Tony. We’re here, by the way.”  
“Ok!” Tony conceded, flipping his sunglasses on, pressing down his suit jacket. “Let’s go watch some snot-nosed brats make electricity out of a potato.”  
“Can you say that, Boss? You have a kid.”  
“Morguna? She’s an angel, cause she’s like Pepper. Thank goodness for that.”  
Visions Academy: One out of the three best, most exclusive, schools in all of New York. The three best? Visions Academy, Standard School, and Midtown High- all tied for first place. If you went to one of them, you were guaranteed to go to an Ivy League, or better yet get a hundred thousand a year job, right out of high school, because the kids who go to the top three are either bona fide geniuses- or filthy rich. Most of them were filthy rich.  
Tony Stark approached the school gym, proceeding to enter. Teens, and parents alike, went wide eyed at the sight of an Avenger attending Visions’ Science Fair. Tony shifted through projects, small robots, glowing bacteria, finger prints: The Works. He’d give a dorky teen a smile, and they’d feel accomplished, but nothing really ‘wowed’ him. Perhaps after college, a handful of the teens would make valuable SI employees, but many had a lot of education before he would even consider it, unfortunately.  
Yet, at the back of the fair there stood a boy, a few inches shorter than him, with a head full of curly dark hair, fiddling with a paper pamphlet. Tony didn’t plan on approaching the boy, as he was close to leaving, having to both also visit Standard and Midtown’s fairs on the same day, but the title of his project caught Tony’s eye. “The Ethics of A.I,” the project was titled, “FT My Homemade A.I.”  
This kid really couldn’t have made an artificial intelligence, right? Wrong. “Hello.” Sputtered the kid.  
“Hi.” Tony said. “Can I see your AI?”  
“Sure!” The kid opened his laptop. “So, Mr. Stark, I specifically designed this AI, to answer philosophical questions. Cause’ ya know, it’s fitting with like ethics and all that, so ask away. It’s kinda like Alexa, you can just say their name.”  
“What’s the AI’s name?”  
“Lenny. Like the Of Mice and Men character. While I wouldn’t consider it my best creation, Lenny is pretty badass.”  
“Hey Lenny?” Tony chimed.  
“Hello new acquaintance, may I ask your name?” The AI chimed. God, how many fourteen year olds could design their own AIs, let alone grown ass adults.  
“Call me Tony. Now, Lenny,” he peered, “what’s the meaning of life?”  
The AI divulged into a brief 30 minute long analysis of what the meaning of life was, interpreting many ancient philosophers, while Tony bounced questions off of Lenny. “Man, Kid. You got skills. What’s your name? I want to write it down.”  
The boy puffed out his chest. “Harley Fitzpatrick, sir.”  
Tony, after leaving Visions, had similar experiences both at Standard and Midtown.  
Another teen boy, fiddled in the back corner, this one nervously tapping his finger on the plastic tabletop, and running his other hand through his hair. Tony could have sworn it was the same kid, Harley.  
“Mr. Ironman, Mr. Stark, Sir!” The child stumbled. “Hello! Would you like a project overview?” He handed him a paper. It was an outline of his project on Quantum Chemistry, and how the teen was able to accurately predict chemical and physical properties of molecules that didn’t exist. The kid began to ramble on about chemistry that Tony didn’t learn about until he graduated college, granted, Tony was 15, but still. “What’s your name kiddo? I wanna write it down.”  
“Oh my god! Peter Fitzpatrick, Mr. Stark, sir.” He grinned.  
Tony’s brow furrowed. “Fitzpatrick? Are you related to Harley Fitzpatrick?”  
“Oh yeah.” Peter laughed. “He’s my twin brother.” Guess genius runs in the family then.  
“Alright. I’ll be in touch, Peter.”  
It was the last round of the day, before Tony could return home, and he was at Standard. Where he experienced again, the same circumstance. There was a girl, with almost red/blonde hair, fiddling next to her project about the theory of an accelerated expansion of the universe. And just by reading over her handout, Tony knew this girl was a genius too. She was combining Quantum Physics, with Astrophysics, in an attempt to show how, what, when, and why, the world would end. Thank God, Tony read it was millions of years away.  
“May I have your name, I would like to write it down for my list?”  
“Oh sure, Mr. Stark. It’s Guinevere Fitzpatrick. With three e’s.”  
Tony pursed his lips. “Don’t tell me.” He paused. “Are you possibly related to Peter and Harley Fitzpatrick?”  
“Oh, yeah. They’re my brothers. We’re triplets. I assume you also met them today.” Genius runs in groups of three.  
“I did. Good to know! Keep up the awesome work, Guinevere.”  
And Tony couldn’t wait to get home and tell his wife about these mini-geniuses.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! School is back up and running, so my chapters may be a little prolonged/and or short! Sorry!

“You’ll never guess who I met, today!” Harley laughed, as he met Peter and Gwen at their subway stop.   
Peter chuckled, glancing at his brother. “I bet I know! Was it Tony Stark?”   
Harley looked exasperated, running his fingers through his locks. “You met him too?”   
“Yeah. I got really nervous, cause...you know, it’s Iron Man, but he liked my project- and wrote down my name for something.”   
“He did that for me too, started asking questions about Lenny and then took my name.” Harley said.   
“Same.” Gwen popped, from behind the pair. “Considering my science fair project was pretty bad this year, cause I did it last night, I was surprised.”   
“No way.” Peter said, shooting to face his sister. “He wrote down all our names! Wonder what that’s about. We can be like mad scientist siblings.”   
“I don’t know.” Gwen replied, taking a seat. “But it was funny because he was like, ‘Fitzpatrick! Are you related to Harley and Peter?’-!”   
“Oh my God! Mr. Stark knows my name! Imma vomit. What if we get like internships, or something like that! God-!”   
“Shut it Peter!” Gwen hollered. “Anyway, I didn’t wanna say that I was related to you two dorks…” She playfully shoved into Harley’s shoulder, “but I said yes anyway. He said he’d be in touch. So now we wait.”   
“Oof.” Harley murmured. “Isn’t that like child abuse or something. Making three triplets, under eighteen, wait to hear back from the largest tech company in the world?”   
“I dunno. Maybe. I’ll talk to MJ about it, she likes laws and such. Maybe we could get some cash outta this.” Peter took out his binder.   
“Oooh!” Gwen teased. “Michelle, your girlfriend, Peter!”   
“Yeah, Pete! You can’t have a girlfriend before me! I’m the cool brother!” Harley chuckled.   
“Guys!” Peter went red.   
“What?” Gwen screeched. “You said she draws you constantly, sure she says you’re in crisis….but maybe she thinks you’re hot!” She chuckled.   
“MJ...no, never! Gwen!” Peter stumbled, hitting his sister's arm. “Stop it!”   
“Maybe, Peter, Maybe.” Harley chimed in.   
On the other side of NYC, Tony Stark frantically ran to his penthouse! “Pepper! Pep! CEO President Potts-Stark!”   
“Tony?” Pepper called from the kitchen, “You’re home from work soon! I had gotten off about an hour ago, but Morgan is still with the nanny- so I figured I’d make dinner. We should get her soon, I know she hates it when we leave her with a nanny-!”   
“Pep!” Tony hollered, rushing and pressing a kiss to his wife’s lips. “I had probably the craziest day. Like a one-and-a-million day!”   
“Oh. Do tell, Tony.” Pepper pulled out two chairs for the both.   
“Alright! But I outta head down to the lab for like five minutes! I need to get something started, and then we’ll talk! The italiano smells molto bene, Pep!”   
“Tony! I’m worried! What did you do?” She exclaimed, rubbing her forehead.   
Tony was already dashing down the stairs. “Nothing bad! Don’t worry!” He hurriedly sat at his lab desk, pulling out the list of names he had taken from the three fairs today. Only three names he had written down, out of thousands of teens, only three impressed him: and they were all Fitzpatrick's, triplets- what are the odds? “FRIDAY?” Tony said. “Find everything you can on, Peter, Harley, and Guinevere, Fitzpatrick! Ages, parents, etc.”   
“On it, Boss. The results will be available in an estimated two hours.”   
“I can handle that, ok. And Friday?”   
“Yes, Boss?”   
“Hypothetically say I needed an intern, but there were three candidates who were all siblings, and were equally smart. I couldn’t choose between them, could I?”   
“I’m not programmed to answer that, Boss, but understanding you, no. I’m not sure if you could. The consequences of sibling rivalry result in increased levels of depression, anxiety, and OCD- I would refrain from picking one of three sibling-candidates over the other.”   
“When did you get so smart, FRIDAY?”   
“I’ve always been smart, Boss?”   
“You’re a cheeky shit, FRIDAY, you know that?” He laughed.   
“You often say that, Boss.”   
Tony, Morgan, and Pepper Stark sat at the dinner table. “This pasta is amazing, Mommy! I love buttery noodles! They’re soooo amazing!” Morgan giggled. “I’m so full!”   
“You can go play bots in the playroom, Morguna.” Tony smiled. “You’re excused, little miss.”  
“Thanks, Daddy! I love you 3,000!”   
“Tony, she has you wrapped around her finger.” Pepper grinned at her husband.   
“I know.” Tony said, holding her hand.   
“Now, what did you have to say earlier, when you were in such an excitable panic?”   
“So I found three potential interns, one at each school I visited.” Tony frowned. “But there’s a problem.”   
“What is it?” Pepper inquired. “Do they prefer Hammer Technology? That would be absolutely hilarious.”   
“No, no, no. Each intern is incredibly smart- like college level- MIT level. They’re projects were on things I didn’t learn until my masters, Pep. Like brainiac level. So, I met the first one, Harley Fitzpatrick, and he made his own AI!”   
“Was it functioning?”  
“Yea, and here’s the real kicker: it answered philosophical questions!”  
“Holy shit! Why don’t you pick him?” She asked.   
“Well here’s the thing, the second one, Peter Fitzpatrick-!”   
“Fitzpatrick?”   
“He’s Harley’s twin brother. They look exactly alike. I almost shit my pants when I realized that.”   
“Is just as smart. He was using Quantum Chemistry, to predict the properties of elements that didn’t exist. That’s huge. God, I don’t even know if Banner knows how to do that.”   
“What about the third, pick them, and then there isn’t any nepotism.”   
“No Pepper! She’s a Fitzpatrick, too! Guinevere Fitzpatrick.”   
Pepper began to laugh, “You’re kidding, right?” Tony shook his head. “Only you can meet three triplet geniuses on separate occasions.”   
“It’s not funny, Pep! I have to choose one! But I don’t want to cause a family rift!”   
“Choose all three!” Pepper suggested.   
“I can’t have three personal interns. That’s crazy!”   
“Well, they can help out between the two of us, and such. I can show them around SI Business, try to convert some of these little smarties to economics. How old are they anyway, seventeen?”   
“I’m not sure.” Tony answered. “How old are the Fitzpatrick's, FRI?”   
“Fourteen, Boss.”   
“God!” Pepper snorted. “Fourteen and Quantum Chemistry, what a match!”


End file.
